


Once More, With Feeling

by Llwyden ferch Gyfrinach (Llwyden)



Category: The Professionals
Genre: Anniversary, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-03-28
Updated: 2003-03-28
Packaged: 2017-10-04 09:24:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Llwyden/pseuds/Llwyden%20ferch%20Gyfrinach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An anniversary story about life as partners at home and in CI5. Some things never change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once More, With Feeling

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to the CI5 list; also appeared in the zine Virtual Pros.

The cork let out a muffled pop as the champagne was opened, Bodie trying to pour as quickly as possible into the glasses Doyle held up, before too much of the expensive vintage could escape down the bottle and into the sink. Mission accomplished, Doyle took the bottle from him so he could wipe his hands, then offered him his share and raised his own glass in a toast. "Ten years."

Bodie beamed at him. "Ten years." They drank quickly, then moved together for a kiss, happy and loving.

"It's a long time, isn't it? So how d'you reckon we should celebrate this one, then? Apart from the obvious."

Bodie mirrored his partner's sensual glance for a moment, before turning mischievous. "You could always open your pressie first. Might find a use for it." Doyle eyed him, his expression clearly showing trepidation.

Ever since they'd decided to move in together, Bodie'd taken to the idea of an anniversary with a vengeance. Doyle had given him whatever he'd felt he needed at the time — usually dinner. Well, dinner and great sex. Bodie himself, though, had gone all-out. He knew his insistence on the traditional gifts for each year was a mystery to Ray, but he'd stuck to them nevertheless, with occasionally marvelous and often bizarre results.

The new cotton denims the second year, ridiculously (and intentionally!) tight, had been received with appreciation and a knowing look. The black leather jockstrap the third year had been the cause of some wrestling, got shoved in the wardrobe, and after was promptly ignored. Last year's obscene ceramic statue had ended up proudly displayed in the CI5 lounge. This year's would be better. He turned on his best "I'm trying to seem innocent, would _this_ face lie??" look.

It didn't work. "Don't suppose we could forget it this year?"

Bodie pouted. "Of course not! Landmark year, this is! Ten years since we moved in and screwed the pants off each other."

"Oh, that's romantic, that is." Doyle grabbed the bottle and moved into the lounge, Bodie trailing behind him just enough to enjoy the view thoroughly. Ray stopped, taking a thoughtful sip of the champagne, and frowned. "Is that what we did?"

"Eh?"

"That first night. 'Screw the pants off each other', as you so elegantly put it."

Bodie shrugged. "Suppose we must've done, mustn't we? Don't you remember?"

"Not me, mate. Thought you did."

"Oh, marvelous. Memory the first thing to go, is it? Must've been a great night, if we can't even remember it." He looked down wryly at his lover sprawled on the divan.

"Nah." Doyle shrugged, unconcerned. "Just so many similarly good nights since then, they all blend together." They both smiled reminiscently. Then Bodie raised a hand at his partner to wait, marched into the bedroom, and returned with a box, which he tossed onto the coffee table next to the champagne. With a sigh at the inevitable, Doyle sat up straighter and looked at it.

Bodie flopped down next to him, grabbing the bottle and pouring himself more champagne. He waited, glancing over at his partner as he drank. Doyle had left his drink for the palm-sized package, but was handling it gingerly, as if he expected it to explode at any moment. "Well, go on then, open it!"

Doyle threw him a suspicious look. "What is it?"

"Oh, no. You know better than that." His voice revealed his exasperation. "Open it and find out! I can't believe we go through this charade every year! Have I given you a bomb yet, Doyle?"

"First time for everything. Which year is it's the bomb anniversary?" He cocked his head sardonically.

"Fifty-second," Bodie answered promptly. "Now open the bloody thing."

He hefted it in his hands, sniffing as he noticed the weight. "Heavier than it looks." He held it gingerly from one corner, listening intently to the shifting noise within. "Sounds like metal." He shook it, rattling the contents.

"Doyle!" He glared fiercely at his partner, trying to contain his desire to tear the present from him and open it himself.

" 's it gonna break?"

"Just _open_ it!"

Doyle just grinned. "Impatient, aren't we?" The smile turned lecherous. "Sometimes anticipation's half the fun, lover." He took Bodie's glass from him and set it down, then reached for his sweater, grabbing a handful and pulling him into a kiss in which the questionable present was forgotten, falling with a thunk to the floor. His hands found the lower edge of the knitted jumper and wormed their way up under it. Bodie flinched momentarily as the chilled fingers met his warm skin, then relaxed and began unbuttoning his partner's shirt as Doyle kneaded his chest and back.

They continued the kiss, moving from lips to neck and ears and back again, opening each other's clothes slowly. Doyle moved against him awkwardly, hampered by his twisted moleskins, which barely gave him room to manoeuvre when they were on properly, and slid a leg between his. Bodie felt his partner's hands on his arse pull him closer, grinding their lips together as he searched deep into Ray's mouth with his tongue.

"Control to 3.7 and 4.5." Bodie jumped back, drawing in a startled breath as Ray whirled toward his jacket and the R/T in the pocket. "Control to 3.7 and 4.5."

Doyle's head dropped to Bodie's shoulder and he let out a frustrated sob. "Maybe if we just ignore it, it'll go away?"

Bodie sighed. "Be nice, wouldn't it?"

"Yeah, well, we can always hope, can't we?" They lay there a moment longer, then Doyle carefully untangled himself from their human knot, stretched over, snagged a sleeve and dragged the jacket closer, wrenching the R/T from inside it. "4.5 to Control."

Bodie muttered, not caring the channel was open. "There'd better be a bloody good reason for this."

* * *

Less than five minutes later, they were fully dressed again, and shrugging on shoulder holsters as they headed for the door. Bodie spoke dryly. "Hey, Doyle? I remember how that first night ended up now."

Doyle scowled. "Yeah, so do I. Think we got a little further that time."

"Look at it this way, mate ..." He trailed off, pausing as his lover turned to look at him.

"What's that?"

Bodie smiled, saccharine-sweet. "Happy anniversary."

Doyle sagged against the wall, eyes closing as he chuckled. Then he glanced at Bodie's rueful smirk, and they both broke into laughter as they left the flat and pelted down the stairs, footsteps and mirth echoing behind them.

Bodie's voice rang out in fond exasperation as they reached the street. "Ray! You never opened your present!" His partner's response was lost in the slamming of car doors and a squealing of tires.


End file.
